Night Out
by Hotaru
Summary: After the events of RE 6, Sherry and Jake seek each other after being quarantined. After sneaking out of their BSAA camp for a Night Out, they find themselves in Sherry's bed for lemony goodness.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is set directly after the events of Resident Evil 6. Jake and Sherry is my favorite pairing! Reviews are welcomed and very much appreciated! :D Not sure if this will be one-shot or not.**

 _But they'll never get you right  
I've been watching you all night  
And the people passing by  
They should tremble at your sight  
But they'll never get you right- Brandon Flowers, "Never Get You Right"_

July 2013

Upon escaping from Neo Umbrella's underwater facility, Jake Muller and Sherry Birkin were subjected to decontamination baths, a no-contact quarantine, and too many debriefings to count. They barely saw each other during this time as the Bioterrorism Security Assessment Alliance, or BSAA, wanted to make sure they told the same story and weren't a threat to global security, biological or otherwise. The quarantine was lifted after two weeks, and the two survivors sought each other immediately.

They met in the cafeteria of the BSAA camp in Lanshiang, holding each other tight for a long while.

"It's been awhile," Jake murmured, resting his cheek against her hair. "You been having as much fun as I have?"

Sherry scoffed, finally releasing him and missing the feel of his body pressed against hers. She had done a great deal of thinking while separated from Jake, uncovering some rather embarrassing truths about her feelings for the former mercenary.

"Never has so much fun been had," she replied sarcastically. "We should be cleared to leave by tomorrow. Leon is trying to get us a private plane, but air travel has been shut down given all the planes dropping from the sky."

"Nice. I'd like to see something other than fluorescent lights for a change," Jake commented as they headed to get some food to eat.

"Tell me about it. I'd die a happy woman if I never had to be in a lab again."

Jake frowned upon realizing that he never considered how much harder their quarantine would be on her. If anyone was the equivalent of a human lab rat, Sherry was.

"We should sneak out," he whispered conspiratorially, brushing his lips against her ear as they shuffled down the food line. Sherry's head whipped around to look at him in shock.

"That is _not_ a good idea," she warned, grabbing her tray and moving towards a table. Jake snickered and grabbed an extra orange before following her. They chose an empty table that didn't have anyone else around to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"We both need to get out of this place," Jake reasoned quietly, peeling his orange. Sherry reached for her fork and stuck it into her instant mashed potatoes, grimacing before taking a bite.

"Yeah, but we'll be out tomorrow. Why risk getting in trouble for a few extra hours of freedom?" she challenged him.

Jake leaned back, shaking his head in disapproval. "Last I checked, we were both adults who kind of just saved the world," he began. "Where's your sense of adventure?"

Sherry went to argue, but bit back the retort she had ready. Jake was right; they deserved a night out. They bent their heads together and planned their escape.

By midnight, Sherry's stomach was bubbling with excitement. The BSAA had provided them with a few outfits instead of their normal white scrub uniform, so she changed into form-fitting jeans and a clingy top. She pulled on the sensible sneakers they had included and looked herself over in the mirror. Jake was knocking on her door at ten after twelve, and she slipped out of her room to follow him.

"Do you know where you're going?" she whispered.

"Of course. I've had this place mapped out for a week," Jake replied confidently, glancing over his shoulder. He wore jeans and an olive green thermal shirt with the sleeves rolled up his forearms. They skirted around security guards and slipped through the kitchen and into the loading bay. Jake boosted Sherry over the fence surrounding the BSAA camp before hoisting himself up and over. And just like that they were free.

The air smelled strange, Sherry noted. It wasn't fresh like she had hoped; instead the odor of death and fire hung in the air. There were few people around the BSAA camp, but once they made it closer to town, things started to liven up. Music poured out of nightclubs and bars, with people engaging in loud, jovial conversations as Sherry and Jake walked by.

"Where are we going?" Sherry inquired as Jake seemed to be heading somewhere in specific.

"Anywhere that serves alcohol and appetizers," he remarked. "I can't take one more day of that slop they feed us."

Sherry couldn't argue with that, so she looped her arm around his as he led the way. He stopped in front of a place that didn't seem too busy, but had music with thumping bass leaking from the windows.

"Can't beat a place called Moonshine," he grinned, leading Sherry inside. The place was dimly due to the neon light show that was projected from the stage. Jake found a high top and pulled out a barstool for Sherry. "What's your poison?" he asked, gesturing towards the bar.

"Surprise me," she winked, glancing around for any familiar BSAA faces. It would be a stupid escape plan if they ran into someone that recognized them from the camp. Security grunts might not give her a hard time, but Leon sure would have. Jake placed a tall glass with a greenish liquid inside in front of Sherry.

"This is the shit," he said, sipping at his identical drink. "It's like minty alcoholic lemonade. I think I'm in heaven."

Sherry wrapped her lips around her straw and took a hesitant pull from her glass, her eyes widening as the sweet, flavorful liquid danced on her tongue.

"Yum!" she moaned, sipping with relish.

"Told you. I ordered some kind of food. I think the guy said chicken…"

Their appetizer was some kind of spicy chicken in a fried wonton wrapper, and they destroyed their first order with delight. Jake ordered another, as well as refills on their drinks.

"This was such a good idea," Sherry sighed, the alcohol working its way into her system. Jake smirked and poked her forehead.

"And you doubted me," he teased, glancing at the people on the dance floor. The music was a mix of American and Asian, and the dancers didn't seem to mind.

"You want to dance?" Sherry asked, knowing he wasn't the dancing type.

"I am not nearly drunk enough for that," Jake snorted as their drinks arrived.

Sherry grinned devilishly as they clinked their glasses together. "To a night out," she toasted.

"To a fan-fucking-tastic night out," Jake corrected.

Two appetizers and four drinks down, Sherry was stuffed and relaxed. Jake was leaning back in his chair, a light smile gracing his lips. "So what's next?" he asked, slightly shouting above the thumping music.

"What do you mean?" Sherry hollered back, leaning forward until they were mere inches apart.

"Where do you go from here? Back to the states?"

"Oh," she sighed, shrugging her shoulders. "I guess so. I'm willing to bet there will be a slew of paperwork and hearings about the C-Virus that I'll have to attend. Things will eventually go back to normal, and I'll keep saving the world. What about you?"

Jake shrugged and looked around, frowning at his empty glass. He held it up until the bartender nodded in acknowledgement.

"What do you want me to do?" he asked boldly, leaning forward again.

"Whatever makes you happy."

"I'm just getting familiarized with that feeling."

Sherry felt her cheeks heat and she leaned back in her chair, breaking eye contact. She wished she could just be bold and express her feelings like a normal woman could. But she wasn't a normal woman, and Jake sure wasn't a normal man.

"Are you suitably drunk yet?" Sherry asked suddenly, hopping from her chair.

"You know what? I think I am!" Jake mused, sliding to the floor and following Sherry to the dance floor. The song was an upbeat number that faded into something slow and romantic.

"Nope, I'm out," Jake protested, turning to go back to the table. Sherry grabbed his arm and spun him back around.

"Don't be such a chicken."

"I don't know how to slow-dance."

Sherry took his right hand and placed it on her waist, then took his left hand in her right. She closed the distance between them and smirked.

"Now you do. It's not that hard," she teased, sliding her left hand around his narrow waist. She pressed her cheek against his chest, closing her eyes dreamily.

"So I just rock back and forth like this until it's over?" Jake questioned, feeling uncomfortable. Sherry nodded and pressed her body against his; soft curves against hard muscle. Jake slid his hand to her hip and pulled her closer still, lowering his mouth to hers. He had caught her off guard, so he pulled away and grinned. Sherry looked up at him, her blue eyes round in surprise.

The song transitioned into another dance number so they quickly returned to their table. Another round of hard mint lemonades was delivered and they sat in awkward silence. All of the words Sherry had prepared disappeared from her mind the moment she felt Jake's lips meet hers. He avoided her eyes now, seemingly embarrassed.

"You wanna get out of here?" he asked, downing his drink in a few quick gulps. Sherry nodded and they left money on the table to cover their tab before escaping in the summer heat.

"Is that a photo booth?" Sherry squealed, running across the street. "Jake, come on!"

They slid into the booth and chose the black and white borderless setting. With each camera snap, they posed differently with rapid movements to get into position in time. The machine spit out a photo strip, and Sherry paid for a duplicate so they would each have one. The first photo was normal; Sherry was grinning and Jake wore his trademark smirk. For the second picture, Jake had stretched out Sherry's cheeks with her fingers and was looking at her with a devilish grin. During the third shot, Jake had stuck his fingers in Sherry's armpits, so she was screaming with laughter while he bit his lip. For the final frame, Sherry rested her head against Jake's shoulder as he gazed down at her.

"These are great," she exclaimed, holding them against her chest.

"We're pretty good-looking," Jake admitted, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. They shuffled back to the BSAA camp, having a bit more trouble with the fence considering how loaded they both were. There was only a skeleton crew operating at such a late hour, so they had an easy time making it back to their quarters. Sherry paused outside of her room, but Jake gripped the handle and pushed his way in, letting out a low whistle.

"Holy shit," he boomed. "Your room is huge."

Sherry rolled her eyes and closed the door before anyone heard Jake's exclamation. She slipped her shoes off and turned on the lights.

"I'm sure our rooms are exactly the same," she assured him, leaning against the door. Jake snorted and pressed his back up against the door beside Sherry before counting paces until he reached the other side.

"Yours is twice as big as mine!"

"Jake, what does it matter?"

He grabbed her hand and pulled her along until they reached his room.

"See this?" he remarked, pointing out a security panel. "They lock me in after nine p.m. I developed a way to get around it, but the point still stands." He pulled his door open and held his arms out. Sherry grimaced upon realizing that Jake really wasn't exaggerating. His room wasn't much bigger than a typical jail cell, with only a bed, toilet, sink, and small writing area. Guilt bubbled in her stomach.

"I bet this was Redfield's idea," Jake muttered, pacing around the tiny space. He looked very much like a caged animal; it was no wonder he had wanted to get out so badly.

"Jake, I had no idea," Sherry murmured, placing a hand on his forearm. "This isn't fair to you, especially considering how much the BSAA needs you."

The former mercenary sucked his teeth in disgust before pointing out the writing area. "I can't take a piss in peace, but thank God I have a space for my poetry," he ranted sarcastically. He slid their photo booth pictures from his pocket and stuck them on the writing desk. At least the stupid thing served a purpose now.

"Is the bed at least comfortable?" Sherry asked, only because she was particularly happy with her own sleeping arrangements. Jake gestured for her to try it out, and when she did, she made a face of shock and horror.

"Let me guess, you're sleeping on a fucking cloud?"

Once again, Jake grabbed her hand and they backtracked to Sherry's room. Jake kicked off his shoes and collapsed onto the bed, moaning into the pillows. He rolled onto his back, his shirt riding up to expose his abdomen.

"Not fair," he croaked, flinging his arms out to his sides. Sherry grinned devilishly and crept over towards him to take advantage of his distraction. She jammed her fingers into his armpits, stifling a squeal as he swung his elbows down.

"What the hell!" he growled, trying to hold in his laughter. Sherry wiggled her fingers, tickling Jake without mercy. He placed a foot on the floor and propelled them over where he could have the upper hand. Sherry moved her hands to his sides, giggling as he locked his thighs around her to keep her still.

He raked his fingers up her sides, but she deflected and went for his armpits again. Jake tried to get a hold of her hands, but she slipped out of his grip with ease.

"What the hell! Why are your arms like slippery noodles?" he grunted, grabbing a wrist with each of his hands before slamming Sherry's hands into the pillow above her head. They both were stock still, panting against each other, blue eyes locked together. Jake saw something flash in Sherry's eyes. _Fear?_

He released her instantly, coming up onto his knees and whispering an apology. He climbed off the bed and ran a hand over his head, trying to come back down to reality. Sherry stood on the bed and launched herself at Jake from behind, wrapping her legs around his waist.

"What the—" he exclaimed before Sherry started whispering nonsense into his ear. That tickled way more than anything her fingers could do, and Jake found himself spinning around in an attempt to break free. Dizzy, he bumped into a night stand and fell onto the soft bed with Sherry still wrapped around him. Jake held a hand to his head until his vision straightened out, fully aware that Sherry was straddling him in a very provocative way.

"You okay?" she asked, her cheeks flushed. Jake nodded, feeling his body react to their proximity. Sherry would be feeling it soon, so he tried to shimmy from under her. Sherry leaned down until her lips were brushing his ear, only this time it didn't tickle. Shivers ran up his spine and he was grateful that she had lifted her hips from his groin.

"We need to talk about that kiss," she purred, her lips brushing his earlobe.

"What kiss?" Jake stammered. "I don't remember any kiss."

"You know, the one that tasted like mint and lemonade."

Sherry sat back, pressing against Jake's erection and delighting in the way his eyes rolled back. Alarms were blaring in Jake's head; he knew they should stop but God, he didn't want to. He sat up, bringing their faces closer together. He stared at her glossy lips, flicking his ice blue eyes to meet hers.

Sherry crushed her lips against Jake's, running her fingers through his hair as she moaned against him. His tongue darted into her mouth, and she tasted him, and traces of the mint lemonade. He bit her lower lip, reaching for the hem of her shirt. They broke their kiss and pulled off two shirts with haste. Jake buried his face between her ample breasts, groaning at how soft and supple they were. He dragged down one of her bra straps, flicking her exposed nipple with his tongue. Sherry's hands were working at his belt and unzipping his jeans.

They both took a moment to rid themselves of their pants, eyeing each other with heat and hunger in their eyes. Sherry laid against the bed and Jake reached for her underwear, breathing in her scent with a satisfied moan. He slid her panties down, the dampness between her legs apparent as he positioned himself on top of her.

"Should we be doing this?" he murmured against her lips, shivering as her hands slid across his chest and down his back.

"Absolutely," Sherry panted, urging him forward with her hands. He slid into her, cursing at the sensation of her tight walls surrounding him. She moaned as he filled her, crying out his name as he teased her g-spot. Her legs hooked around his waist and he thrust into her, making guttural noises of pleasure as she tightened around him.

His back was all hard muscle beneath Sherry's hands, his movements sending her spiraling towards climax. His fingers were massaging her clit as he slid in and out, grasping her breasts in ecstasy.

"Jake," she whimpered, her breath ragged. "I'm so close." He raised up from his elbows and pulled her tightly against him, gyrating his hips and massaging her g-spot until she screamed, and his body shuddered with release as he spilled onto her stomach. Sherry was gasping and moaning, holding onto Jake for dear life as her body shuddered with pleasure. Jake collapsed beside her, kissing her face and shoulder before burying his face into her pillows.

"Oh, my God," Sherry gasped. "That was amazing."

"You're amazing," Jake pulled her into him, and sleep washed over them both.

Jake woke first; his head pounding and his body stiff. He took a minute to get his bearings before glancing down to see Sherry wrapped up in his arms. The previous night flashed before his eyes and he stifled a groan. If Redfield or Kennedy found out about this, they'd probably kill him and no one would ever find his body. He stared at the ceiling before looking down at Sherry, brushing her bangs aside to admire her features.

She was beautiful; angelic, even. Her body was heaven and he couldn't quite believe that they had actually slept together. The memory of how she had moaned his name sent shivers up his spine, and he slipped out of bed before he became too aroused. He used Sherry's private shower, a luxury he did not have in his own cell. He stood under the scalding water until his muscles relaxed and his head felt a bit better.

Jake borrowed Sherry's toothbrush, hoping she wouldn't mind too much. He wrapped a towel around his waist and went out into the room as Sherry was stirring. She was still wearing her bra, one breast poking out enticingly. She rubbed her face, no doubt feeling the effects of the alcohol the same as Jake did. She blinked, and pressed her knuckles against her eyes before spotting Jake by the bathroom.

"Hm?" she groaned, initially confused. "Oh, God, what did we do?" She sat up pressed her palm to her head as Jake came a step closer.

"You regretting something?" he surmised from her body language. She refused to meet his eyes, opting to wrap herself in a sheet instead. "Say something."

"Good morning," Sherry managed, finally meeting his eyes. Where were all the words she wanted to say before they were reunited? The feelings that were so overwhelming she could hardly sleep. She had wanted to pour her heart out to Jake, and now she had the opportunity. "This was a bad idea."

Jake didn't expect it to hurt as much as it did. It was the truth, wasn't it? He had the same thought last night, but he didn't let it stop him. Sherry was a government agent; she was responsible for bringing him in to save the world. She jeopardized her reputation and career by spending the night with him.

"Yeah, probably," Jake agreed. "I'll just go back to my room and we can pretend like this never happened."

He grabbed his clothes from the floor and dressed without modesty. His skin was still damp, but all he wanted was to get out of there before anything else needed to be said. Sherry sat mute on the bed, running her hand over her stomach where he had come. She wanted to say something, that it meant something but all she could think about was the camera that sat above her doorway. _Who watched the footage? Was it always recording? Would Chris see it?_

Jake slammed the door to Sherry's room, and she was left to fret alone.


	2. Chapter 2

"Captain, there's something you should see."

Chris Redfield exhaled sharply through his nose as he adjusted his path and turned into the video surveillance office. The BSAA agent who had called him tapped on his monitor with a stubby finger.

"Looks like we had a break-out last night," he reported.

"Break- _out_? Well, who was it?" Chris inquired shortly. He got his answer soon enough; Jake Muller's ugly mug appeared on the surveillance video, striding down the hallway followed by Sherry Birkin. The agent adjusted the view to show the pair climbing over the fence that surrounded the perimeter and Chris stifled an aggravated grunt. _God damn it, Muller._ "Any idea where they went?"

"We can hack into the street surveillance, but it'll take some time. But judging by how they looked when they came back, it's clear they were out drinking," the agent offered, fast-forwarding the video. Chris grimaced as he watched the two drunken idiots clambering over the fence, laughing and falling against each other like everything was a big damn joke. Chris grit his teeth and rubbed his forehead, assuring the agents that he would handle the situation.

He had barely gotten halfway down the hall when the agent hollered for him again. Chris spun on the heel of his boot and retraced his steps. He crossed his arms tightly across his wide chest and tilted his head expectantly.

"Get a load of this," the agent remarked, tilting his screen up. It took a moment for Chris to grasp the scene unfolding on the video. Sherry, naked. Muller, naked. Together. He averted his eyes and had to refrain from drawing his weapon and unloading into the screen.

"Fucking hell!" he exclaimed, grabbing the agent by the shoulder and hoisting him out of his chair. "That is a United States special agent, what the hell is wrong with you?!"

The agent flapping his mouth like a gasping fish, slamming his hand back to shut the screen off. "Captain, I'm sorry!" he stuttered, sweat beading on his upper lip. "I just…"

"You just _what_?" He dropped the agent back into his chair and shoved it forward. "Delete it. All of it."

"But Captain, that's against regulations. You know I can't—"

"That was an order. And if word of this gets out, it's your ass."

Chris felt sick to his stomach; Sherry was like his and Claire's little sister. Seeing her that way…it wasn't right. All of this was Muller's fault, and Chris found himself outside the room of Wesker's spawn, punching his security code into the panel on the wall.

He entered without knocking and charged towards Jake, who was in the middle of a round of sit-ups. Muller cast his icy eyes on Chris as he finished his set, sweat glistening across his naked chest.

"Are you out of your God damned mind?" Chris asked without preamble.

"Probably," Jake conceded with a smirk.

"Don't try to be cute. What the hell were you thinking, sneaking out of a government base on foreign soil?"

Jake cursed and looked away, resting his forearms on his knees. "We needed a break," he answered honestly. "Sherry tried to talk me out of it, but I was pretty persistent. You of all people should understand why being in place like this would be unnerving for her."

The problem was that Chris did understand; hell, he was happy that Sherry was finally smiling again. What irked him was _who_ made her so damn happy. Albert Wesker's illegitimate son; the heartless mercenary who was willing to hold the world's safety hostage to the tune of fifty million dollars.

"Care to explain what happened after you got back?" Chris asked quietly. He saw the blush rise against Jake's fair skin as he climbed from the floor and rested his hands on his hips.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"We have cameras rolling twenty-four seven, Jake. The recording is being destroyed as we speak to protect Sherry's career and dignity. As far as I know only one agent is aware of what happened, and I'll do my best to keep it that way in order to protect Sherry. You, on the other hand, are up shit creek."

To be honest, Chris wasn't sure what the hell to do about the situation. He couldn't outwardly punish Jake because of all the questions it would raise. It would undoubtedly fall down on Sherry, as well. As much as Chris hated Jake, he wasn't willing to harm Sherry to get back at Muller.

"Look, this was a one-time thing, alright? We had a bit too much to drink and things got out of hand, but Sherry made it abundantly clear that it was a mistake, so it won't be happening again," Jake assured him.

Chris bit his lip and met Muller's eyes. "You have a different opinion?" he guessed. The other man swallowed deeply, but didn't answer.

"It doesn't matter what I think. She'll be on a plane, heading back to the states to be greeted as a hero soon enough. She'll forget all about the mistake she made with me."

A BSAA agent informed Sherry that her flight was ready in the afternoon, so she gave her room one last look before following him out. She hadn't seen Jake all day and the thought of having to say goodbye was overwhelming. She didn't leave her room, except to get something quick to eat from the cafeteria long after Jake would normally be there.

Chris was waiting for her by a dusty truck in the complex's parking hangar. His face was neutral as he lowered a heavy hand onto her shoulder. "Ready to go home?" he asked. She nodded, turning to look at the base. She chewed her lip before climbing into the truck and clicking her seatbelt on.

She wanted to ask Chris about Jake, but she couldn't think of a way to do it casually. She had no idea if anyone saw their little tryst on the surveillance system, and she wasn't about to bring attention to it unnecessarily.

"Where's Leon?" Sherry asked suddenly. She had only seen him a few times around the base before he seemingly disappeared.

"He's already gone; some special mission from the White House, apparently. You know Kennedy—always the superhero."

She could hear the timbre of Jake's voice in her head calling her Super Girl. It caused memories of the previous night to flood her vision, and she felt herself throbbing as she pictured his touch.

"You okay?" Chris asked, noticing her twisting in her seat.

"Yes, I'm fine. Just…happy about getting out of this place."

"Muller's agreed to stay behind and provide some more samples once he regenerates all the blood they've taken from him. We're optimistic that his antibodies will prove to be useful for more than just the C-Virus," Chris explained. "There's a high probability that samples of the T-, G-, and Veronica viruses are still out there. Maybe we'll get lucky and have a viable antidote for all three."

Sherry nodded absentmindedly, tears springing to her eyes. She had missed Jake so much during their quarantine, and now she was about to fly thousands of miles away from him without so much as a goodbye. The BSAA had been generous enough to provide them with phones, but none of what she needed to express could be done anyway other than in person. She was about to ask Chris to turn around when the airport came into view and she knew she had missed her chance.

Chris helped Sherry onto the plane, conversing with the pilot and several agents who were taking the same flight. He pulled Sherry into a hug and she buried her face into his shoulder.

"You'll be back home before you know it. Claire's gonna pick you up at the airport and she'll be around until things settle down, okay?" he murmured, feeling the girl quaking in his arms.

"Thanks, Chris."

She managed to keep the tears at bay until Chris had departed from the plane, but as she watched him stride towards his truck, hot tears spilled down her cheeks. Sherry turned towards the window and quickly wiped them away, needing to look strong in front of her fellow agents. She would never forgive herself for leaving things this way between her and Jake.

Her phone chirped and her heart leapt when she saw Jake's name flash on the screen. A small smile formed on her lips as he proved he wasn't the same heartless merc she had met six months earlier. The US government would gladly have paid the fifty million if it meant saving the world, but his new asking price of only fifty bucks meant way more. There was no reading between the lines of his message; it was as though they had completed a business transaction and nothing more.


	3. Chapter 3

Christmas time for the survivors of Raccoon City and beyond was just an excuse for excessive drinking. Chris, Leon, and Carlos would head down to the nearest liquor depot and spend an exorbitant amount of money on beer, wine, and spirits. Whoever was hosting the party would string up the required lights and throw a tree in the corner, but the most important part was reminiscing with friends.

An entire chunk of time was dedicated to comparing scars and the person with the worst one would win. Horror stories usually came next, with more rounds of alcohol to dull the pain of the rehashed memories. Thankfully, Sherry never had to relive her time in Raccoon City; everyone knew what her father had done to her. They did ask her all about her time in China, her reunion with Leon, and how it felt to work with the spawn of Albert Wesker.

She blamed it on the heat of the fire, but her cheeks flushed at the mere mention of Jake. Claire Redfield was the first to notice, and she was quick to alert everyone else.

"Oh, my God, she's _blushing_!" Claire squealed, slapping the arms of the people seated beside her. "Look, it's creeping up her neck!"

Her brother, Chris, excused himself as hoots and a chorus of "ooohs" erupted from the living room. Sherry deflected questions and ignored a litany of rude remarks before following Chris's escape path into the kitchen. She pulled a bag of frozen vegetables from the freezer and placed it on her neck, hoping to ward off the heat waves radiating through her body.

"If you're overheating, you should go outside. It's freezing out there," Chris suggested from the corner. Sherry shoved the vegetables back into the freezer and followed his advice, stepping out onto the deck with Chris following suit.

"Thanks for the suggestion, this is much better," Sherry sighed, adjusting her sweater dress to allow the cold air to tickle her skin. Chris swirled the ice in his glass and let out a deep sigh. The silence between them was getting awkwardly uncomfortable, so Sherry formed a quick snowball and launched it towards Chris.

Naturally, he deflected it and it exploded against the side of the house, sprinkling soft snowflakes down his collar.

"Sherry, I know," he said finally, setting his drink onto the snow-covered railing.

"Know what?" Sherry knew damn well what he was talking about, but it seemed instinctual to ask, if only to bide herself some time.

"The cameras are standard in all BSAA bases, monitored 24 hours a day. I was alerted to your excursion with Muller and the subsequent, uh…fraternizing. The data was erased and I made sure that word didn't get out." Sherry ran a hand through her hair and reached for Chris's drink, swallowing down the remainder in one gulp. "I think a lot of us forget that you're not the little kid you were when we met you. You're a grown woman capable of making your own decisions, and as much as it pains me to see you and Wesker's illegitimate son together…what can I do?"

Sherry crossed her arms tightly in front of her chest, the warmth leaving her body in a sudden rush. "We're not 'together'," she started, grimacing at how immature she sounded. "It was a mistake, I mean—a momentary drunken lapse in judgement. I haven't spoken to Jake since I got back the states, and I'm certain he doesn't want to talk to me."

"Why not?" Chris inquired.

"I was an ass to him after I had realized what had happened. I said some things that weren't really true, and I think I hurt his feelings."

"You mean he isn't just some robotic anger machine?" Chris grinned.

"He's complicated, but a real person with feelings just as real as your or mine. I kinda failed to see that at the time, I guess. It didn't help that I realized there were cameras in the rooms, either. But if I'm being completely honest, I miss him."

Chris held out his arms and pulled Sherry into a hug as she started shivering. "Then you should talk to him, Sher. I don't pretend to know what he's thinking, but he was mighty protective of you whenever our paths crossed back in China. He's gotta be missing you, too. Admit that you were wrong to say whatever it was that you now regret and take it from there. What's the worst that can happen?"

"He'll hang up and never want to talk to me again."

"And the best?"

The heat starting rising from Sherry's neck again and Chris gave her a playful jab in the ribs. She let out a squeal of laughter and swatted him away.

"Fine, I'll think about it. I can call under the guise of wanting to say Merry Christmas," Sherry suggested as they headed back into the house.

Long after dinner and dessert was served, Sherry decided to call it a night. Truth be told, she was trying to work up her nerve to call Jake, but every time she tried to leave, there was one more joke to be told, or one more scar to flaunt.

It was long past midnight when Sherry finally escaped out to her car and turned her key in the ignition. Nothing happened—the lights didn't come on, and the engine didn't make a sound. With a long groan, she popped the hood latch and climbed out of her car. She had little to no knowledge about cars, but when she shone the light of her phone over the engine block, she could tell what the problem was immediately: the battery was gone.

She should have expected the attack to come from behind, but the wine and spirits were dulling her senses. The hit from the Taser knocked her to the cold, wet ground instantly. She was dragged into the backseat of an awaiting car that smelled like a potent mix of marijuana and those tree-shaped air fresheners.

Her body wouldn't respond to the signals her brain was sending out as the car pulled away from the curb with her assailant behind the wheel. Sherry tried to tense her fingers, hoping beyond hope that her cell phone would still be in her hand. As soon as someone realized something was amiss, they could track her phone, unless it was laying on the pavement in front of her car.

Moaning with the effort, Sherry turned onto her back and tried to regulate her breathing. Her eyes darted around the car in search of something she could use to disable her abductor. It took several seconds before she realized that he was wearing some kind of a mask, and several seconds more to register that the car's interior was filling up with smoke. She coughed and tried to force her limbs to move, but they felt like jelly. Her vision blurred and she felt herself slump against the seat cushion before losing consciousness.

Jake's leg bobbed incessantly as he checked the flight status for the hundredth time. He poked at the monitor on the seat in front of him, grimacing at how far he still had to go. Claire had called him only a few hours ago, and in his impatient haste, he hopped aboard a commercial jet within twenty minutes.

Now he was sandwiched between two old people with hours to go before he even touched down. An old, wrinkled hand settled on his bouncing knee, and he snapped his head to the right.

"Don't be nervous, dear," the elderly woman said. "Air travel is very safe if you disregard all of the recent plane crashes."

Despite the fear twisting in his gut, Jake barked out a laugh. "Thanks for reassuring me. I'm not a nervous flyer, just worried about someone," he admitted.

The old woman passed over a skein of yarn and picked up a pair of knitting needles. Jake stared down at the gray yarn in confusion.

"You can make yourself useful and help me finish this scarf. It's for my nephew, and I'd like to finish it before we land. See the yarn coming out of this end?" she pointed with a thin finger. "Just pull that out a bit at a time so I don't have to yank it constantly."

"Like this?" Jake questioned, gently tugging the yarn from the skein.

"You don't have to be so careful, see?" she laughed, her hand pulling a yard of yarn that draped over Jake's legs. He watched her work the needles expertly, slipping stitches onto a separate bent needle.

"What's that?" Jake inquired, pointing at the weird-looking needle.

"This is how you make a cable-this pretty, twisted thing here. I like cabling because the finished product is so beautiful. What's your name, dear?"

"Jake Muller," he let his name slip, biting his bottom lip in frustration. His entire existence was kept secret from the rest of the world, but he had no doubt that someone out there knew who he was and where he was at all times. It was unlikely that this old woman was a spy for some agency, but any of the other passengers nearby could be.

"Well, it's lovely to meet you, Jake! I'm Rosemary St. Cloud, but all my friends call me Rosey. There were a lot of girls named Rosemary when I was young, and so we all tried to give ourselves different nicknames. I didn't like Ro, or Mary, or Rose. All the girls wanted to be Rose, as though they would be so beautiful and sweet if people called them the name of a flower. Rosey the Riveter was my inspiration, I guess…or at least that's what I came to tell people," she babbled on, the rhythmic clacking of her knitting needles slowly pulled Jake's chin toward his chest.

 _Pine. Fire burning. The crunch of snow and ice. Nausea._

Sherry opened her eyes, confused as her vision bounced around like she was riding a horse upside down. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to regulate her breathing, but her stomach hitched and she began to vomit.

Whoever was carrying her dropped her onto the ground and let out a string of curses, but she didn't really care so long as she could empty her stomach. Her eyes watered and her nostrils burned with the smell of whatever her abductor has used to knock her out. Twice more, her stomach lurched and forced out the toxins that had been sloshing around since who-knows when.

Sherry reached for a handful of snow to clean her mouth, pausing when she realized that her wrists were zip tied together.

"Are you about done? I'm freezing my ass off," someone barked. Sherry turned and decided rather quickly that she could take him down once she was feeling better.

"Where are we?" she asked, her throat raw.

"Neverland. Come on, on your feet," he ordered, grabbing her by the arm and yanking her up. He was young, maybe in his mid-twenties and the kind of skinny you get when you're addicted to narcotics. He shoved her forward and she stumbled in the snow, her high heels catching on something buried beneath the fresh cover.

"Where are you taking me? And why? Who are you?" she fired the questions off in rapid succession, hoping her voice would carrying through the wooded area she found herself in. It was too late for any sane person to be out, but she had to hope.

"Shut up," the man ordered, shoving her forward again. She made herself fall and let out a cry, whimpering on the ground as though she was some helpless girl. She knew better than to attack him now; she didn't have her bearings and there was nothing but trees as far as she could see.

"Please, just let me go!" Sherry whined, swallowing some snow to soothe her throat while the man grabbed her by the waist and tossed her over his shoulder.

"I said _shut up_! I got orders to deliver you in one piece, but they said nothin' about roughin' you up a bit."

Sherry closed her eyes and forced herself to think logically and process the information she had gotten so far. There was no way to tell how long they had driven before getting out to walk. Her assailant was a hired man, and likely had no loyalty to the people who gave him his orders. She couldn't remember much about the car she had been thrown in, other than its smell. She presumed there was some sort of shelter nearby that the man was trying to get to, unless there was some kind of rendezvous planned in the middle of the night.

There were undoubtedly numerous people who would like to see Sherry dead or figure out what gave her the ability to heal from any injury. She had spent far too much time stuck in a hospital bed while people poked at her with sharp instruments, but she had a bad feeling that that was the reason behind her abduction.

The man was breathing heavily, and Sherry almost offered to walk. She needed him to be winded—jonesing for a hit of heroin or meth would be even better. The only advantage he had on her was height and free movement of his arms, but she had no idea what was in the smoke she had inhaled.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Sherry announced. It was half true, but she really wanted to test her own strength to prepare for taking her assailant down. He dropped her ungracefully onto the ground and backed away as she dry heaved, eating more snow to replenish some of the fluid she had lost.

"The cabin's not much farther. Think you can walk?" he asked impatiently. Sherry nodded and allowed him to lift her from the ground. It was difficult walking through the snow in heels, but she played it up to make it seem like she was still unsteady on her feet. If she could get this guy to drop his guard, then it would be that much more easy to escape.

Sure enough, a cabin finally came into view and Sherry was eager to get off her feet. The man pushed the door open without needing to unlock it and pushed Sherry towards a dusty looking couch. She fell over the arm rest, stiffening when her abductor sidled up behind her. He pressed himself into her, thrusting his hips while yanking her hair.

"We're gonna have us some fun here, missy," he promised, releasing her and moving towards the fireplace. Sherry's eyes darted around the room in search for any kind of weapon. There was a poker by the fireplace, and an ax lodged into the wall by the front door. She didn't need her hands free to wrap them around the ax and plant it deep into her assailant's back.

He was busy piling logs into the fireplace, shoving old newspaper in the cracks but as Sherry took a step towards the ax, the floorboards groaned beneath her feet.

"I need to use the bathroom," she said quickly, hoping he didn't see her eyeing the ax.

"You are too fucking needy," the man spat, rising from the floor to push her towards the bathroom. Everything was coating with a layer of dust, which Sherry tried to clean with some toilet paper.

"I can't go like this," she whimpered, holding up her hands.

"Do you think I'm some kinda idiot? The second them cuffs are off, you're gonna try and make your escape. I know you work for the government like 007 or some shit. I'll gladly lend you a hand if you need help wiping."

Sherry swallowed down the fury rising in her throat and shook her head. "I'll be fine," she assured him, trying to push the door closed. It didn't have a lock, but the thin door at least prevented the letch from watching her.

Quickly, she kicked off her heels and removed her stockings so that her feet would have more traction on the floor. Taking the opportunity, she relieved her bladder and washed her hands before pretending to vomit again. She could hear the man pitching a fit outside the door, so she flushed and grabbed the heavy porcelain lid of the toilet tank.

He shoved the door open as she was hunched over the bowl, breathing heavily and making a lot of pathetic moaning noises.

"Will you get a grip—" He never saw the hit coming. Sherry swung the porcelain lid as hard as she could, slamming into the man's face with a sickening crunch. He flew into the wall and collapsed to the floor, out cold as blood streamed from his nose and mouth.

Jake's dreams were dark, full of shapeless demons and an overwhelming sense of despair. He tried running, but his legs moved so slowly that he couldn't put any distance between himself and what he was trying to escape from.

A bump of turbulence jerked him awake and he clutched the arm rests in panic. Rosey's skein of yarn rolled from under his chin and onto the floor, so Jake bent to retrieve it.

"Your head was bobbing and I could just imagine the pain in your neck when you woke up, so I stuck my yarn under your chin. You're useful even when you're asleep, Jake," Rosey smiled, lifting the scarf to show Jake her progress.

"Glad I could be of service," he remarked, rubbing his face tiredly. "Excuse me." He escaped to the bathroom, climbing over Rosey with his long legs, narrowly avoiding getting tangled in yarn.

He made his way down the plane towards the bathroom, eyeing each passenger with suspicion. Most people were sleeping or using some kind of device or another, but Jake wouldn't let his guard down. Sherry disappeared without a trace, her cell phone left behind on the ground in front of her disabled car.

After relieving himself, Jake scrubbed his face until he felt any remnants of his dreams wash away. He needed his full faculties if he was going to save Sherry…but the chances of even finding her were slim.

Someone impatiently rapped on the door, so Jake took one last look at himself in the mirror before exiting the cramped space. He made his way back to his seat, his memories floating back to the last time he had seen Sherry.

" _Oh, God, what did we do?" Sherry sat up and pressed her palm to her head as Jake came a step closer._

" _You regretting something?" he surmised from her body language. She refused to meet his eyes, opting to wrap herself in a sheet instead. "Say something."_

" _Good morning," Sherry managed, finally meeting his eyes. "This was a bad idea."_

 _Jake didn't expect it to hurt as much as it did. It was the truth, wasn't it? He had the same thought last night, but he didn't let it stop him. Sherry was a government agent; she was responsible for bringing him in to save the world. She jeopardized her reputation and career by spending the night with him._

" _Yeah, probably," Jake agreed. "I'll just go back to my room and we can pretend like this never happened."_

The wound was still sore despite how much time had passed. Jake slumped in his seat and Rosey put him to work again, but she wasn't very talkative at least. He hadn't even said goodbye to Sherry before she headed back to the states and their only communication was when he lowered his asking price. He thought it would be easier for Sherry to talk business with him instead of emotional manners. When she didn't respond, Jake buried himself in work at the BSAA.

He was game to any test they wanted to run, and the doctors eventually put a permanent line in his arm so they could get a sample of his blood without having to stick him again. Try as he might to forget, his thoughts would always run back to Sherry. He imagined how she dealt with being a guinea pig for the government for all those years. At least Jake felt like he had some semblance of a choice in the matter.


	4. Chapter 4

Wasting no time, Sherry ran towards the front door and yanked the ax free. She wedged the handle between her thighs and proceeded to saw through the ropes binding her wrists. The rough material chaffed her skin, but by the time she cut through the bindings, the scratches had healed. Sherry jammed her hands into her various pockets in hopes of finding her phone. After coming up empty handed, she searched the cabin for any other means of communication. There was an old telephone attached to the wall in the make-shift kitchen, but only silence greeted her when she pressed it to her ear.

Returning to the bathroom, Sherry rooted around in her assailant's pockets, her fingers closing around a small disposable cell phone. Her first instinct was to call Jake, but he was somewhere overseas and she didn't want their first conversation in months to be a plead for help. Claire was the next best choice, so Sherry punched her number in and moved towards the fire to warm up her freezing toes.

"Hello?" Claire greeted cautiously.

"Claire, it's Sherry! I need help," Sherry exclaimed, chastising herself for sounding so panicked.

"Oh, thank God! We've all been worried sick. Where are you?"

"I don't know, somewhere in the woods. I'll explain it all later, but I don't think I have much time. The guy who abducted me was working for someone else, and they may be heading to my location."

"Okay, can you describe anything about where you are?"

"It's an old cabin in the middle of the woods. I was unconscious for a while, but we probably walked two miles once I was awake, so this place is at least two miles in from a road. That's all I know."

"Alright, we'll start searching what areas nearby match that description. Can you get away from where you're being held?"

Sherry bit her lip and looked down at her bare legs. "I knocked the guy out, so if I steal his pants and boots, I can probably try to backtrack towards the road. There is fresh snow on the ground, so if I follow our trail, it should work," she explained.

"Yes, do that then. Stay on the line and we'll try to get a track on your signal."

"Okay, I'm going to put the phone down and get dressed."

Sherry undressed the man quickly, taking his pants, socks, and boots along with a thick scarf. After bundling herself up, Sherry grabbed the ax and cell phone.

"Claire? I'm ready," she announced, pausing by the front door.

"Okay, I'm going to stay on the line with you. Chris is gearing up to head out with Leon and Jill the second we have a ping on your location. It's going to be okay."

Pulling the door of the cabin open, Sherry took a cautious step outside. Everything was quiet, except for the slight crunching of snow.

"Claire, they're already here," she announced, tightening her grip on the ax. "I can take them. Hang on." Sherry got the drop on the figures heading towards her in the dark. The ax was sharp and made quick work of the task. "I'm back. It's the same people who abducted me and Jake in China." She crushed the white mask with the heel of her stolen boot.

"Jake won't be happy about that. He's on his way, you know. Hopped the first flight out of whatever backwater town he was hunkered down in," Claire informed her. Sherry leaned against a tree, her stomach flip flopping at the thought of seeing Jake again.

"I hope you didn't worry him."

"He worried himself just fine. He hardly let me explain the situation before booking a flight. Chris would have used his contacts with the BSAA, but Jake was faster."

"Oh. Well, he has a long flight ahead of him. Hopefully I'll be home in time to at least take a shower," Sherry joked weakly.

She trudged on through the snow, keeping up the small talk with Claire until they got a pinpoint of her location. The cell phone was nearly dead, so Sherry hung up with Claire to save the last bit of battery.

The woods were beautiful in the pale moonlight; the snow made it look like the ground was covered with a fine dusting of crystals. Sherry's mind drifted to what she would say to Jake when they finally reunited. She would start out with an apology, humble and sincere before moving on to the more uncomfortable admission of her feelings for him.

A branch snapped behind her, and Sherry spun while dropping to the ground. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, but she couldn't see anything following her. She waited for a few moments to catch her breath and make sure that there were no other masked assailants following her. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, so she trusted her instincts and began to run.

"Folks, this is your captain speaking. We are preparing to make our final descent, so please return to your seats. If you were dreaming of a white Christmas, your wish came true."

Rosey patted Jake on the arm and smiled warmly at him. "Thank you for your help, Jake. I think this is a good length, don't you think?" she asked, winding the scarf around his neck.

"Yeah, it's perfect."

As the plane finally began to decrease altitude, Jake stared out the window and tried to think about how he could find Sherry. He had been out of communication with Claire and Chris Redfield for the entirety of his flight, and he hoped that they would have some news once he could turn his phone back on.

The planes wheels bounced against the tarmac and a light smattering of applause sounded throughout the plane. The once-silent plane was filled with a cacophony of seatbelts unbuckling, cell phones powering on, and boisterous conversations. Rosey snipped her yarn and wove in the tail, smiling in appreciation of her hard work.

Jake wished he had a badge to flash to get him to the front of the pack, but he had declined Chris's initial offer to join the BSAA. He didn't like the idea of having to answer to anyone, especially Redfield, so he assisted on a few ops as a civilian consultant instead.

"Honey, help me up to the front, would you?" Rosey asked, gripping Jake's arm. He looked up to find a flight attendant waiting patiently with a wheelchair.

"Of course," Jake answered, helping to ease her into the chair. He grabbed his duffel bag from beneath his seat and hooked her knitting bag with the other arm.

"We already have her carry-on," the flight attendant informed him with a smile. Jake nodded and followed Rosey towards the front of the plane. They got some angry looks from the other impatient passengers, but Jake couldn't help but grin at the old lady's ploy.

A loud crashing followed Sherry, accompanied by frenzied shouts and screams. She zigzagged through the dense forest, her heart pounding against her chest before she came to a stop behind a tree with a wide base. Panting, she held the ax at chest level and listened. When the first bullet zipped through her abdomen, a loud gasp slipped through her lips. Frantically, Sherry whipped her head around in a desperate attempt to locate where the shot came from.

Intent on finding cover, Sherry stumbled forward and pressed a hand to her bleeding belly as the next shot tore through her left shoulder. Turning, she saw the sickly visage of the man who abducted her, a gun thrust ahead of him as he fired off two more rounds.

Sherry fell to the ground, grunting as her head thumped against a fallen tree. The man was on her in an instant, a knife flashing in the moonlight as he slammed it against her chest. She cried out in pain as he yanked the knife downwards, slicing through her sweater and flesh alike. Warm red blood spilled onto her skin, chilling instantly in the icy cold of the night.

"You fucking bitch! You think you can escape me?!" he growled.

She barely felt his hands groping her, the knife nicking her flesh with each movement. The ax had slipped from her hand, the bullet that pierced her shoulder likely damaging some nerves in its travels. Thrusting her knee upwards, Sherry used her good arm to slam her palm into the man's already broken nose. As he screamed in pain, she reached for the man's knife and thrust it into his throat, her body screaming from the effort. Blood gushed from his neck with each beat of his heart, until he collapsed onto the red-stained snow.

With shaking hands, Sherry probed her wounds and cried out in the dark. Her healing ability had its limits, and she could still die from bleeding out before her body sealed up the four bullet holes and giant gash down her torso. With shaking hands, she systematically checked the holes in her body. The wound to her stomach had closed, and Sherry hoped that any internal damage was repaired. Noting that she had more mobility with her left arm, she deduced that her wounds were healing in order.

Blood still pooled from the gash down her torso, so Sherry rolled onto her stomach, hoping the pressure of her body would stop some of the bleeding. With shaking hands, she pulled out the phone from her pocket.

Her hands were slick and bloody, but she managed to dial Jake's number. Her vision blurred as she listened to his voicemail greeting, and it seemed like an eternity before she heard the beep to leave a message.

"Jake," she gasped, "I'm hurt. Worse than I've ever been. There's so much blood. I just wanted to call…in case. Jake, I'm so sorry...for everything. I was…scared and unable to process what I was feeling. I miss you so much and I haven't stopped thinking…about you. I'm here, waiting for you…wherever I am. Jake, I…"

Sherry slid into unconsciousness, the phone dropping from her fingers and disappearing into the snow.

Rosey had Jake wheel her to the exit of the airport and she giggled with delight upon seeing the snow falling. Her family was waiting for her in front of a large SUV and Jake felt a pang of loneliness in his heart. Rosey hugged her good-looking children and planted kisses on her grandchildren's cheeks, leaving Jake awkwardly holding her knitting bag.

Eager to contact Claire, Jake handed the bag off to one of the family members and called out a goodbye to Rosey.

"Jake, wait!" She waved him back over reached into her knitting bag. "I want you to have this." She wrapped the scarf she had knitted for her nephew around his neck.

"Mom, we need to go," one of the men said impatiently. Rosey ignored him and patted Jake on the cheek.

"I hope that whoever she is, that she is okay and knows how lucky she is," she said softly. Jake hadn't told her much about Sherry, but he guessed that her woman's intuition filled in the blanks.

"Thanks, Rosey," Jake grinned, pulling the old woman in for a hug. "I hope they know how lucky they are to have you, too."

Jake called Claire and paced in front of the airport until she answered and told him a driver was waiting for him. He would head to the nearest helipad where a waiting helicopter would take him to Sherry's location.

Upon hanging up with Claire, he noticed he had a voicemail. He listened to it during the drive, his entire body tensing upon hearing the fear in Sherry's voice. During their time in China, he had never heard her sound so scared. Jake pressed his hands together, trying to stop them from shaking as his imagination filled his head with terrifying thoughts.

Leon, Chris, and Jill were forced to rappel from their helicopter when a storm system moved in over Sherry's location. The wind whipped them around during their descent, and all three were happy to be on solid ground again.

"Claire said this storm is likely to turn into a blizzard, so we need to find Sherry and get out of here," Chris announced, shouting over the howling wind. Jill took point, heading towards the GPS coordinates where Sherry's cell phone had pinged. They crunched through the snow quickly, reaching the coordinates in a half hour.

"I don't get it, where is she?" Leon barked, holding his arms out. Chris tried to call Claire while Jill pulled out a pair of binoculars.

"It's faint, but there is a trail of footprints ahead through those trees," she announced. "Someone must have chased Sherry from this location."

Cursing, Chris shoved his phone in his pocket. "I can't get a call to go through. The signal here is shit," he reported, following Jill's lead. The footsteps had already begun to fill with fresh snow, but they knew they were on the right trail when splatters of bright red blood stained the otherwise pristine white.

"Sherry!" Leon called out, cupping his hands around his mouth to make his voice travel. They paused, listening for a response before continuing to move forward. The trio systematically moved through the trees, calling and waiting for a response.

"Wait!" Chris said, stopping abruptly. "Sherry?"

A whimper was all they heard in response, and the three charged towards the source. They found Sherry propped up against a felled tree, her arms wrapped around her torso protectively.

"Son of a bitch," Leon spat, dropping to his knees to lift Sherry from the icy cold ground.

"It might not be as bad as it looks," Chris said, trying to sound reassuring.

"We need to get her temperature up and she might need a blood transfusion. Let's try to find that cabin that Sherry found."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Sorry for the delay. Work is winding down, so it's been crazy. Thanks for the reviews and follows! 3

Chris tried hailing their helicopter, but as expected, the pilot had to turn back shortly after their descent. The blizzard was in full effect as the trio trudged through the snow until a dark structure finally came into view. Leon passed Sherry over to Chris and took point with Jill. They made sure the area was secure before signaling to Chris that it was safe to come in.

"There are a couple of fireplaces we can get going," Jill told Chris as he lowered Sherry onto a dusty couch.

Leon helped Chris extricate Sherry from her blood-plastered jacket, wincing at the condition of her clothing underneath. Her shirt was split down the middle and coated with nearly-frozen blood. Her bra was also sliced in half, stained pink and looking like a macabre Rorschach test.

Jill took her vitals with the field medical kit they had, shaking her head at the results. "She

needs blood," she stated. "There's a transfusion kit in here, but—"

Chris was already removing his jacket. He rolled up his sleeve and held his arm out to her. "Take mine—we're the same blood type."

Leon took over the fire-building duties and took stock of what supplies were in the cabin. There wasn't much, but they could definitely make use of the kettle and instant coffee he found in the kitchen. He found some musty but clean sweat pants and shirts in a closet, so he brought those in for Sherry.

Jill and Chris had removed her clothing and draped a blanket over her body. Chris had a latex tourniquet wrapped around his bicep and his veins were practically begging to be drained. Jill sterilized Sherry's arm and started the transfusion process.

"How long does it usually take you to put out a pint of blood?" she asked Chris.

"About ten minutes," Chris answered after a pause.

"You're lying. I've seen you clear a pint in under six minutes. We can't have you passing out from blood loss because you're too eager to play the hero."

Leon snorted and shoved some kindling into the fireplace behind Jill before opening the flue and setting it ablaze. The heat was a welcome relief from the bitter cold inside the cabin. Leon repeated the process with the fireplace on the opposite end of the cabin, hoping that ambient temperature might hover above freezer soon.

He returned to the front room and grabbed the large cast iron kettle, gesturing towards the door with it.

"The pipes are frozen, so I'm going to go get some snow to warm up. We can wash the blood off of Sherry, then make some hot coffee," he suggested.

"Coffee sounds great," Chris remarked, shooing Jill away when she tried to pull the needle from his arm. "Leave it. We can't risk Sherry dying just so I don't get lightheaded."

Jill set her jaw, but said nothing. Leon returned with a kettle full of snow and set it over the fire to melt. As Chris started to wobble in his chair, Jill swiftly removed the transfusion line and held his arm above his head.

"Leon," she called as Chris started to slump towards the floor. Together, they caught him and eased him against the back of the couch. Jill pressed a square of gauze into his elbow pit to slow the stream of blood dripping down his forearm. Leon slapped Chris on the cheek a few times until he opened his eyes again.

"What happened?" Chris mumbled, blinking rapidly.

"You fainted," Leon answered with a tone of bemusement in his voice.

"What?"

Jill was too busy cleaning up the line from the transfusion to smack Chris for being so stubborn. She wrapped a bandage around Sherry's arm, then did the same for Chris. Leon made a kettle of instant coffee, grateful to have something warm in his belly.

Carefully, Jill poured some coffee into Sherry's mouth to rehydrate her and increase her body temperature, if only by a minute amount. They huddled around the fire in silence for several minutes until Leon remembered the clean clothes he had found.

Jill went in search of a towel or wash cloth while Leon poured some warm water into a basin from the kitchen. Once Chris finished his cup of coffee, Jill ordered him to get some rest in the other room. Leon supervised and returned to Jill's side once Chris was safely on the sofa bed in front of the other fire place.

"Chris was right," Jill said once Leon was in earshot. "She healed. Several bullet holes and a deep gash from neck to navel."

"Fucking hell," Leon muttered, looking away. Sherry's flesh had knitted itself back together, leaving behind thin pink scars that would eventually fade with time. "How did this happen right under our noses?"

Jill washed the towel in the basin and glanced up at him through her eyelashes. "Don't do that," she warned.

"What?"

"Blame yourself, flood your mind with the what ifs."

Leon sucked his teeth and gestured to Sherry. "How could she have been snatched from right outside Claire's door? A dozen of the most skilled soldiers and officers were under one roof, maybe thirty feet away. We were useless."

Jill rose to dump the soiled water and held the bowl as Leon poured fresh water from the fire. "We're not useless now," she told him. "The instant we knew something was wrong, everyone sprang into action. Jake Muller is flying halfway across the world—"

"What the hell does he think he's gonna do? By the time he gets here, Sherry will probably be back to normal and he'll have wasted his time," Leon interrupted.

"I doubt Sherry would agree with you."

As much as he didn't want to admit it, it was glaringly obvious that Sherry and Jake had a thing for each other. He didn't want to see it before, or maybe he was more focused on keeping everyone alive back then.

"It's a nice gesture," Leon admitted finally. "Sherry will be happy to see him again."

"And you?"

"I'll be happy for her."

Once Sherry was cleaned up, the two removed her soiled clothing and dressed her in the gray sweat clothes that Leon had found in the closet. They added more logs to the fire and Leon slid into bed beside Sherry. The fire hadn't raised the temperature in the cabin very much, so they would have to rely on body heat to get through the night.

Jill climbed onto the sofa bed beside Chris and listened to the sound of his steady breathing above the crackling fire. She shivered, wishing that there was another blanket she could cocoon herself in. Chris's arm hooked around her middle and he pulled her body next to his, the warmth of him spreading over her like a river. He didn't open his eyes or say a word, so Jill was left to wonder if he could tell she needed him without even being conscious.

Jake was a bundle of nervous energy when the driver finally pulled into a small airport with a helicopter waiting. The pilot jogged over towards the car, waving his hands.

"We can't fly in this weather," he shouted over the wind.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Jake exclaimed, holding his arms out in disbelief.

"I just got back from dropping your team off, so they should reach your partner soon if they haven't already. You can drive and walk the rest of the way, let me show you on the map."

The pilot climbed into the car to escape the wind and snow before pulling a map from his jacket pocket. He unfolded it and pointed to a road that snaked through dense forest.

"This here is Route 6. I dropped your team at this red x, so if you take Route 6 for about twenty miles from here, you should be able to get to that location. The roads were iced ahead of the storm, but the way the snow is falling, they won't stay clear for long. I'd leave now if I were you," the pilot explained.

Jake took his advice and commandeered the car, promising to send someone to pick up the driver. He called Claire and relayed the information to her, frowning when she had no updates.

"I haven't been able to get through to anyone," Claire explained. "I don't know if the storm is affecting the cell signal, or if the area is in a low-service zone."

"Probably a bit of both. The pilot believes they should have reached Sherry by now, and I should get there under a half hour, provided the roads are clear and I don't get lost in the woods," Jake replied. "The cell signal is likely to get lost the further in I go, so I wouldn't panic if you don't hear from any one tonight."

"I've been trying to convince myself that once they found Sherry, they assessed her injuries and took the proper steps to ensure their safety. If she wasn't in bad shape, they probably went to the cabin to hunker down until tomorrow. The news said the storm might blow over by noon tomorrow, so I'll try to keep calm until at least one p.m."

"Good deal. Thanks, Claire."

Despite having never met the woman, Jake found that he liked her. Sherry admired Claire, and it was easy to see why. She had managed to keep a cool head, even when most of the people she cared about were in trouble. He hadn't realized it at the time, but knowing that he had someone else he could rely on helped ease some of the tension in Jake's mind.

The snow was beginning to accumulate on the road, but there weren't any other cars around. Anytime Jake felt the car start to skid, he was able to ease it back into the right lane without having to jerk the wheel to avoid a collision. The odometer finally clicked over to 20 miles, so Jake looked for a place to pull over. He saw an older car partially covered with snow on the shoulder, so he pumped the brakes and pulled to a stop.

Jake stared at the car, grinding his teeth as he imagined some dirt bag grabbing Sherry and tossing her into the trunk or backseat. Acid and fear bubbled in his gut, so he sent a quick message to Claire to let her know he had made it that far. She sent back a plethora of emoji, ending with ten thumbs-ups.

Despite the situation, Jake laughed as he headed into the woods. He kept an eye on the cell signal, which dropped a bar at a time until there were no bars at all. Wanting to conserve the battery, he turned the phone off and slid it into his pocket before continuing forward. He kept his eyes on the ground, looking for any sign of foot traffic. He found some prints likely belonging to a deer before finding the large, clumsy prints that had to be Chris, Leon, and Jill.

He followed them towards a fallen tree before they turned east and continued for what seemed like an eternity. The white out conditions made it nearly impossible to see, and by the time he spotted the cabin, he was practically at the front door.

With frozen fingers, Jake pulled his weapon and held it in front of him as he approached the door. He could see a warm, orange glow from the windows through the thin curtains that obscured the view. Keeping the gun trained on the door, Jake grabbed the knob and gave it a twist. _Of course it's locked_.

He was about to knock on the door when it was opened from the inside. A wary looking Leon Kennedy stood on the other side, aiming a gun at Jake.

"Muller?" he asked groggily, obviously jolted out of his sleep by the rattling door handle.

"Kennedy," Jake greeted, holstering his gun. "Is Sherry..?"

Leon held the door open and stepped aside to allow Jake into the cabin. He shook the snow from his head and stomped his boots gently by the door.

"She's alive," Leon said, gesturing to the pullout sofa. Jake swallowed deeply and approached, only breathing a sigh of relief when he saw Sherry's face illuminated by the glow of the fire. Leon handed him a cup of hot coffee, which he took gratefully. He let the cup warm his fingers before taking a cautious sip.

"She was in pretty bad shape when we found her," Leon started, refilling Jake's cup when it was empty. "We brought her back here and cleaned her up, but she had already healed by then."

"Did she lose a lot of blood?" Jake asked, thinking back to the pristine snow cover he saw.

"Yeah, her blood oxygen levels were low. Chris gave her a couple pints of his, all too eager to play the hero." Jake didn't even have the energy to roll his eyes, but he appreciated Leon's humor nonetheless. "I've never, uh, experienced this before. Her healing, I mean."

Jake looked up from his coffee. "No?"

"I'm not sure what to expect. I don't think Sherry's ever been hurt like this before."

"It was snowing the first time I saw it," Jake realized. "A huge chunk of shrapnel right in the back. I thought she was fucking crazy when she told me to take it out."

"Yeah, she told me about that. She was worried that you thought she was a freak."

Jake stretched his legs towards the fire, pulling off his boots to warm his toes. "We're all a little freaky," he noted with a smirk.

Leon couldn't exactly argue with that. "Jill and Chris are using the other bed. I've been sleeping here to keep Sherry warm; she was out in the snow for a while. I'm sure you've had a hell of a day," he gestured towards the bed. "It's not the greatest mattress, but it sure beats the floor."

"I've had worse," Jake acknowledged. "The floor's fine. You're too old for anything other than memory foam anyway."

Leon flipped Jake off before crawling into bed, thankful for the comfort and consideration. Jake eased himself down until he was curled in front of the fire place. He bunched up the scarf Rosie had given him and used it as a makeshift pillow. The paltry sleeping conditions brought him back to his youth, which was surprisingly comforting. He succumbed to exhaustion and drifted into a restless sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

The following morning, Jake woke to the others talking quietly. He hadn't slept well and wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed beside Sherry, but he knew it wouldn't go over well with Chris or Leon. He imagined that Jill would back them up, typical rank and file.

"Claire spoke with the pilot this morning and got the coordinates of an old farm about a mile from here where he can land. The problem is that once the paramedics are on board, there won't be room for all of us," Chris was explaining.

"Shit," Leon sighed. "Sherry needs to be first out of here, followed by you. Jill and I can stick around until he can double back."

"No need," Jake interrupted from the floor. "I commandeered a car to get here and it should still be on the shoulder within walking distance from here. Whoever can't fit on the 'copter can drive back."

"Morning," Jill smirked. "You must be Jake. I've heard all about you."

Jake bit back a smart retort and forced a smile. "Great."

"Don't be so defensive…I hate your father as much as they do, but I don't hold you accountable."

"Good, 'cause I never even knew him."

Leon handed Jake a cup of coffee, just like he had the night before. Again, Jake was grateful. Chris was like a stone statue, only moving his eyes between Jill and Jake.

"Now that we're all friends, can we get back to the matter at hand? If the helicopter can fit two more, Chris can ride with Sherry. Jill, Jake, and I will drive back and meet you at Claire's house," Leon suggested.

"That's fine. It goes without saying that Sherry's abilities need to be kept private. The BSAA is providing the paramedics, so we don't have to worry about nosy hospital personnel. If I know Claire, Rebecca has already been called and should be waiting for us when we arrive," Chris said.

"Then it's settled. I'll call Claire so she can give the go-ahead to the pilot. We move out in ten," Leon instructed, stepping outside to make the phone call.

Jake got up from the floor and stretched, working the kinks out of his stiff muscles. He felt eyes on him and turned to face Chris.

"What?" he asked impatiently.

"When'd you get in?" Chris inquired. Jill set to putting away the supplies they had borrowed so the two men would have a modicum of privacy.

"Last night; Kennedy let me in."

"The situation was under control. You didn't have to rush out here to save the day."

Jake laughed in disbelief before replying, "I didn't. I rushed out here to…"

Chris looked at him expectantly and Jake saw Jill watching him from a distance, waiting for him to finish his sentence. Thankfully, Leon returned from making his phone call and gave Jake a reason to remain silent. They packed up their gear and tried to rouse Sherry, but she only moaned and clenched her fists.

"The farm is about two miles east of here. Chris, think you can handle carrying Sherry that far?" Leon asked.

"Cake," Chris replied, wearing his backpack of gear on his front before hitching Sherry onto his back. Jill wrapped a blanket around her and tucked it in between her and Chris's body to keep them both warm. The storm had mostly dissipated, but the temperatures were still hovering below freezing.

Chris headed east towards the farm, while Jake, Leon, and Jill headed back towards the road. The wind was howling through the trees, which kept the small talk to a minimum. Jake wasn't looking forward to the ride back, but at least he didn't have Chris to antagonize him.

 _Maybe he was showboating to impress the woman_ , Jake theorized, his icy blue eyes flicking towards Jill. She wasn't bad looking and had a killer figure; it wasn't a stretch to think that Chris had a thing for her. Or maybe Redfield was being his typical, jarhead self. He had a chip on his shoulder and always needed to prove how tough he was.

Truth be told, Jake didn't feel very comfortable around these people. If Sherry was around, she would have been a bridge between their two worlds—the survivors of Raccoon City and him, the opportunist. His father had put all their lives in danger, and had undoubtedly taken loved ones from each of them. Thinking about it retrospectively, he couldn't really blame Redfield for his animosity. Kennedy had sort of warmed up to Jake during their exploits in China, but he didn't exactly feel like part of the team.

They reached the road after a mostly silent walk and Jake swept his arm over the car to brush off the snow that had accumulated over night. Once the snow was cleared, Jake turned the engine over and blasted the heat until the interior was toasty warm. Leon offered Jill the front seat and closed the door for her once she was buckled in. Jake waited for the engine to warm up before heading back towards town.

"Damn, I'm starving," Leon muttered once they were on their way. Jill rooted around in the glovebox, but came up empty.

"If I know Claire, she's got a turkey in the oven and pies cooling in the window sill," she said wistfully.

The mere mention of such a treat made Jake's mouth water; he couldn't remember the last homecooked meal he had enjoyed. _How presumptuous,_ he chastised himself. What's the likelihood that he would have a seat at the Redfield table? Claire had been cordial enough on the phone, but Sherry's life was at stake—she needed all hands on deck, even if that meant putting on a friendly face for the son of Albert Wesker.

"So, Jake…I've heard all the stories," Jill started, warming her hands by the AC vents. "You were instrumental in stopping the spread of the C-Virus, and in taking down Simmons. How does it feel?"

"How does what feel?" Jake asked, confused.

"To be one of the good guys?"

"That would insinuate that I was, at one point, a bad guy."

Jill cocked her head to the side in acknowledgement. "True. I suppose it's not really fair to equate you with your father's evil deeds, huh?"

"No."

"You really never met him?"

"No."

Leon leaned forward from the back seat. "That's probably a good thing, kid," he noted, patting Jake on the shoulder.

"Before he went all Umbrella on everyone, he was a good guy. At least he seemed like it," Jill continued. Jake glanced at her.

"You were part of S.T.A.R.S., right?" he questioned.

"Yeah. We did some good work before it all went down."

Jake couldn't bring himself to respond with anything of substance. He didn't like talking about his father, or thinking about him for that matter. He preferred to keep Albert Wesker on the periphery of his life. There was always going to be an enemy in the world, another Wesker or Simmons looking to change the world to fit their ideology. For people like Chris and Leon, it drove them to keep fighting the good fight. Jill would be there with Claire and Sherry, and whomever else felt compelled to don their superhero capes and save the world. Jake didn't know where he fit in.

Mercenary work was never going to go out of style, especially in the aforementioned scenario. Jake had shifted his dedication towards the "good side", though oftentimes it was difficult to tell who was who. The drug lord who utilized child soldiers could also fund a school and provide jobs to his people. The pharmaceutical conglomerate who promised to first do no harm could set in motion a cataclysmic chain of events sparked from greed and gluttony.

"How long are you staying in town?" Jill asked, interrupting Jake's internal musings.

"Uh…I haven't thought about it," Jake replied truthfully. "Depends on Sherry, I guess."

"Ah huh."

"Guess I'll have to figure out a hotel."

"I'm sure someone has a spare bed," Leon noted quietly. Jake's eyes darted up to the rearview mirror where they met Leon's. Leon nodded at him reassuringly and Jake felt an unexpected tightness in his chest. He looked back at the road, grateful when a cell phone began to ring.

It was Leon's, and he picked it up with a gruff, "Hello." He listened to the person on the other end for a while, and Jake assumed it was Claire. "That's good. We're maybe a half hour from your place, and I'm desperate for a hot shower…Jill expected as much. I'll text you when we're nearly there. Okay, thanks. Bye."

Jill grinned and turned back towards him. "She's cooking, isn't she?" she verified.

"Yep. Once she knew Sherry was safe, she went shopping and is cooking up a storm."

Jake couldn't wait.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Daddy I'm not gonna tell you that I'm sorry**_

 _ **But there ain't nothin' you can do to change my mind**_

 _ **I'm not here to know the things I cannot do**_

 _ **We've seen the outcome of the boys who didn't fly—Brandon Flowers, "Playing with Fire"**_

Leon gave Jake directions to Claire's house once they merged off Route 6. Her house was in a neighborhood with lots of holiday decorations; hers was no exception. Even in the bright morning sun, Jake could make out lights in every window and baubles hanging from the bushes and tree in the front yard.

The trio unloaded from the car and shuffled towards the Redfield home, the cold making their joints stiff.

"Ten to one, Chris had already used up the hot water," Leon bet, pulling open the wrought iron gate.

"I'll kill him," Jill threatened, climbing the stairs to the front porch. Jake hung behind them, taking note of his surroundings. The cars that lined the street were mid-range, no luxury models. There were a lot of SUVs and minivans; perhaps being in a neighborhood with a lot of kids made it less of a target for the evils of the world.

Before he had even reached the porch, the front door swung open and a heavenly aroma wafted out.

"Welcome back," Claire Redfield greeted, hugging Jill first, then Leon. She lingered in his arms, nestling her face in the crook of his neck for just a moment before moving on. "And you must be the infamous Jake Muller."

Jake reached out to shake her hand, freezing when she wrapped her arms around his torso and gave him a squeeze. He awkwardly pat her back, looking at Leon for assistance. The older man lifted a shoulder and headed inside, not put off by the display of affection in the slightest.

"It's great to finally meet you," Claire said, finally releasing him. She was conventionally pretty, with auburn hair and bright blue eyes. Jake could see the resemblance between her and Chris, though she got the better end of the deal. The frilly apron she wore was in direct contrast to her athletic figure, and Jake had no doubt that she would be an asset in a fight.

"Likewise," he replied, following her inside the warm house.

"Chris and Sherry got here a little while ago. They're upstairs now with Rebecca, she's a doctor and survivor of Raccoon City. And apparently Leon thinks he can poke around in my kitchen without asking," she clicked her tongue at Leon, who was hovering near the oven. She handed him a banana and shooed him off to take a shower. Jill was nursing a cup of coffee, standing by the oven to warm up.

"I'll go see how things are going upstairs," she said after a moment, washing her cup at the sink before disappearing.

"Anything I can help you with?" Jake offered, looking at the various vegetables covering the kitchen table.

"Yes, if you wouldn't mind, can you please scrub these potatoes?" Claire replied before she set to basting the turkey.

Jake rolled up his sleeves and stood at the sink, dutifully scrubbing the spuds under warm water. He wanted nothing more than to be by Sherry's side, but once again, Chris was in his way.

"Chris told me that Sherry's been unconscious since they found her," Claire said, taking the clean potatoes over to a cutting board. "I'm sure that's been hard."

She was fishing and Jake decided on playing dumb. He had no idea what Sherry had said about him or their time together. The last thing Jake wanted was more ammunition for the Redfield clan to use against him.

"Aren't you worried?" he answered her with a question, not the smoothest deflection tactic, but it worked.

"Of course, but Sherry is strong. You don't go through the things she has only to come out a weakling on the other side."

Claire diced the potatoes and slid them into a pot of water before rinsing the starch from her cutting board.

"Want me to cut these?" Jake asked as Claire washed a bag of string beans in a colander.

"Sure. Trim the ends and cut them to an inch and half long."

Chris appeared a few minutes after the beans were finished, a smirk forming on his lips at the sight of Jake being domestic.

"Shower's free," he announced, swiping a green bean, and crunching it between his teeth.

"Would you mind?" Jake asked Claire.

"Of course not, have at it," she replied. "Food will be ready in about an hour. Can you let Jill and Rebecca know?"

"Sure."

Jake grabbed his duffel bag and trudged up the stairs, taking in the picture frames on the wall. There were a few pictures of Chris and Claire together, but the majority of them were nature photos: sunsets, fluffy clouds, flowers, and the like.

There were voices coming from a room at the top of the stairs, so Jake poked his head in and found Jill, and a woman he assumed to be Rebecca.

"Claire said to tell you it'll be another hour on lunch," he announced, trying not to look at Sherry, who was still unconscious on the bed.

"Thanks," Jill replied, turning. "Rebecca, this is Jake Muller."

The two shook hands and exchanged pleasantries before Rebecca gestured at Sherry.

"Her vitals are all good, so I don't think we have anything to worry about. Her body has obviously been through a lot of trauma, so it's anybody's guess as to when she'll finally come to. You're familiar with her abilities, correct?" Rebecca queried.

Jake nodded and answered, "Yeah, I've seen it in action."

"As have I, though never with injuries this substantial, so I can't give a timeframe. Just be patient."

He didn't think he was giving off any vibes that expressed his concern, so Jill or Chris must have said something to her. Or maybe Sherry herself had confessed to their adulterous evening together, gossiping behind his back about how she could bring herself to sleep with the spawn of Albert Wesker.

"Right," he said finally, turning to head to the shower. He was at a severe disadvantage, surrounded by the superheroes of Raccoon City, a town his father wiped off the map. He hadn't allowed himself to think that Sherry would be anything but happy to see him, and she was the only thing he could think about when he had boarded that plane hours before.

He took a hot shower, washing the sweat and grime from his body and forcing himself to relax. If he chalked up his unease to paranoia, then he might be able to get through the next few days without losing it. Claire was the closest link he had to Sherry; if he could ingratiate himself with her, the rest of them would surely follow—he hoped.

As he was tying a towel around his waist, there was a knock on the bathroom door. He unlocked it and pulled it open. Claire was waiting on the other side and her eyes dipped down before meeting his.

"You can put your dirty clothes in the hamper and I'll run a load of laundry later," she said, letting her eyes drift south again.

"Thanks, but you really don't have to do that," Jake replied, feeling his cheeks heat. Claire smirked and gave him a wink before heading back towards the kitchen.

"It's my pleasure."

Jake shut the door and toweled himself dry, changing into a pair of jeans and a black long-sleeved t-shirt. Not wanting to disobey orders, he deposited his dirty clothes into the hamper before brushing his teeth. He gathered up his toiletries and shoved them back into his duffel bag before heading back to the first floor.

Everyone but Sherry had gathered in the living room in front of the fire place where Leon was setting the kindling ablaze. A timer went off in the kitchen and Claire abandoned her egg nog to tend to the cooking. Jake followed her, eager to be of some help to earn his keep.

She was sticking oven mitts on her hands to remove the turkey from the oven. Jake plucked the mitts and gently bumped her out of the way.

"Allow me," he insisted, pulling the oven open and getting a face full of oppressive heat.

"A girl could get used to this," Claire sighed, setting trivets down on the counter. Jake hefted the turkey and placed the roasting pan on the trivets, practically salivating at the aroma.

"It's the least I can do to repay you for your hospitality."

"Jake, you don't need to worry about that. You took care of Sherry back in China, and you helped Chris and Leon, too. I am indebted to you." She handed him a pot of potatoes along with a masher. "I'm sure you've got some guilt about what your father did, and I'm willing to bet you think we all harbor some animosity towards you about it, too."

Laughing without humor, Jake poured some cream into the potatoes and continued to mash them. "The first time we met, your brother nearly put a bullet in my head. Had we not been in the predicament we were, he may well have killed me. I don't think there's animosity, I _know_ it."

"Fair point, but he's come around since then. I'm not saying you're his favorite person in the world, but he at least tolerates you. And I know Sherry cares about you. A lot."

"Of course, we were partners. We went through a lot together," Jake agreed, trying to deflect the discussion elsewhere. It dawned on him that she might not know about his one-night stand with Sherry, meaning Chris kept it under wraps. He had been eager to keep word from getting out to protect Sherry; she had a career to worry about, after all.

"Play coy, Muller," Claire teased, removing the green bean casserole from the oven.

"Claire," Chris said sharply, appearing from nowhere. He gave a subtle shake of his head, and Claire dropped the discussion and instead focused on sprinkling French Fried onions on the casserole. "Jake, give me a hand?"

Not waiting for an answer, Chris headed towards the front door with Jake following behind him. They descended the stairs and walked to the sidewalk, the biting cold wind sluicing through their clothing.

"Sorry about Claire. She can be persistent," he apologized. "She doesn't know, in case you were wondering…unless Sherry confided in her, but I think I would have gotten grief from Claire if that was the case."

"It's not a big deal. I know you have Sherry's best interests in mind."

"The night before she got abducted, I told Sherry that I knew about your, uh, little excursion. For what it's worth, I think she genuinely cares about you." Jake looked away, wishing he could believe it. "It's never been easy for her…relationships, I mean. Her father did a real number on her, uh…reproductively, and it's had a devastating effect on her."

Jake stared down at the glistening snow until the reflecting sunlight started to hurt his eyes. He had never gotten the full story about what happened back in Raccoon City, only bits and pieces from the different parties involved. Sherry used vague language to explain her past, never delving deeper than calling herself an 'experiment'.

"Sherry's father was just as culpable for Raccoon City as Albert Wesker was," Chris was saying, crossing his arms against the chill. "No one has ever even considered blaming her for what Birkin did…yet I was first on the band wagon to despise you. You served as a surrogate for my anger towards your old man, and that was wrong. I'm sorry, Jake."

He was holding his hand out like a peace offering, so Jake gave him what he wanted. Harboring a beef with Chris wasn't going to do him any good, and he knew Sherry would be happy to hear that he had been welcomed into the fold.

"Meeting new people in the midst of a zombie outbreak can lead to tense relationships," Jake commented, earning a chuckle from Chris. "Let's keep the past behind us, huh?"

Chris grinned and slapped Jake on the back before heading back inside and into the dining room, where Leon was setting the turkey down. Jake felt like he might go weak in the knees, not realizing just how hungry he was. Claire gestured to the open seat beside her with a wink, so he sat to keep her happy. The food was passed around and Jake loaded up his plate, reminding himself that he was among civilized people and should act accordingly.

He started with the turkey and cycled around his plate, trying not to inhale the crescent rolls. Chris and Leon were matching his pace, going for seconds right as Jake was trying to determine how to do so using proper etiquette. Claire topped off his glass of wine and retrieved a fresh batch of rolls from the kitchen.

"Everything is amazing," Jake commented when she returned. "Thank you."  
"I'm glad. You all had a hard night, so it was my pleasure."

Jake noticed Rebecca staring at him, though she had the grace to blush and look away in embarrassment. He was starting to feel like a bit of a freak show; everyone wanted to get a look at him, but no one was willing to just treat him like everybody else.

"Let me guess," he said to her. "I look just like my old man."

Rebecca blushed even more. "Yes, I can definitely see the resemblance," she admitted. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare."

Jake downed some wine so that he didn't say anything stupid.

"Don't be ashamed for looking," Claire added. "We could use some more eye candy around here."

It was Jake's turn to feel uncomfortable. He glanced towards Leon, finding the man scowling behind his beer. Chris merely gave his sister the middle finger and rose to bring his empty plate to the kitchen.

"Uh, thanks, I guess," Jake said finally. He followed Chris into the kitchen and rolled up his sleeves to work on the dishes.

"Claire's mouth has always gotten her into trouble."

"I don't know, I like a girl who's brave enough to say what's on her mind."

"There's a difference between being brave and being hurtful," Chris reminded him.

"Leon can take it."

Jake worked at the sink, filling up the dish rack as more and more empty dishes were brought in from the dining room. By the time dessert was being served, the front of his shirt had gotten wet from the edge of the sink. Using a dry towel, he rolled the bottom half of his shirt up and worked on getting it a bit drier.

Rebecca hurried down the stairs and into the kitchen, taking one look at Jake's toned abs before turning pink.

"Sherry's awake," she announced, averting her gaze. "She's in the shower, but is eager to see everyone."

"Fantastic," Jake replied. He felt nervous excitement in his stomach at the thought of finally reuniting with Sherry, and the three glasses of wine he had downed with lunch weren't helping either. Part of him wanted to dart upstairs and into the shower to show Sherry just how much he had missed her. Part of him wanted to walk out the door and disappear before he saw her.

"Come on, Jake!" Claire called from the dining room. "It's time for dessert."

Not wanting to insult his host, he dutifully returned to the table and ate some pie and drank some more wine, even though it already felt like his head was spinning. He tried to think of what he wanted to express to Sherry, but he never got more than a few thoughts together before someone at the table roped him into the conversation.


End file.
